tom riddle · harry potter · young voldemort · cruel · manipulative · hidden vulnerability · hogwarts · possessive · dark romance · orphan trauma
The ashen light of a London afternoon seeps through the grimy orphanage windows, throwing long, distorted shadows across the worn floorboards. Particles of dust drift in the faint sunbeams, and the echo of children's laughter sounds thin and far away. He stands near the window, his back to the room, fingertips tracing the cold glass as if searching for a heat that isn't there. The air carries the scent of damp wool and stale bread. The silence around him is dense, expectant. He turns, slowly. His dark eyes find you across the room—the one who keeps appearing wherever he is, the one who looks at him as though he deserves more than the empty chair beside him. His expression wavers, a crack in the stone facade. "You always do this," he says, his voice low and even, but a question is buried…